


hey baby, did it hurt when you fell fro- (oh god you're falling)

by dr-gay-co (plasticflowers)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Background Relationships, College Student Derek, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Character Death, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, band au, i'll just spoil that right now it's peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 11:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticflowers/pseuds/dr-gay-co
Summary: "I broke your nose in a mosh pit AU" Only the cutest of meets for these two boys.





	hey baby, did it hurt when you fell fro- (oh god you're falling)

**Author's Note:**

> Some important notes: Derek's age has been changed for this fic because I specifically wanted the dynamic to be that Stiles was a senior in high school and Derek was in college. Which idk enough about the show to know if that really screws with the ages so w/e. This is my first Teen Wolf fic. Derek probably seems pretty OOC in this fic which I'm sorry about but I'm also lowkey caulking it up to his family being alive so he's not as grief-driven as he is in canon.

Concerts were a lot like sex. High energy, sweaty, your favorite band was there. Or at least that’s what Stiles assumed. He’d never had any first-hand experience. With sex, obviously. Concerts, on the other hand, he went to as often as possible. A little too much perhaps if you asked his father. But by now Sheriff John Stilinski was familiar with this conversation. It usually started with a long, drawn-out “heyyyyyy Daaaddddddddd” and ended with him letting his over energetic son drive way too far all for some show. Luckily, the next show Stiles was going to attend was right in his hometown, at a tiny all-ages venue that doubled as an arts center for local kids. Stiles and Scott had recorded a few songs there years ago and even though all the songs majorly sucked, it was an awesome time.

 

“Who’s playing your concert tonight?” John asked over dinnfast. “Dinnfast” was a solely Stilinski phenomenon as far as Stiles was aware and the term had been coined by an eleven-year-old Stiles. It referred to a meal eaten early in the mornings when Stiles was waking up for school and the Sheriff was getting back from an overnight shift. Like today, Stiles was eating Cheerios while his dad reheated a pasta dish Stiles had made last night.

 

“It's some local bands playing,” Stiles answered through a mouthful of cereal. At his father’s disapproving look he swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know any of them but I thought it could be fun.”

 

John nodded and joined Stiles at the table with his pasta. “Is Scott going?”

 

Stiles concentrated on stirring his spoon through his cereal as he shook his head. “He has a ton of homework.”

 

As good as he’d gotten at it, Stiles hated lying to his dad. The truth was that the full moon was tonight and Scott was nervous about being in such a big group of people. Stiles knew that Scott would be fine but he knew he couldn’t push his friend into anything. Despite his faith that Scott wasn’t dangerous, Stiles was still nervous about leaving Scott. He’d been helping his friend since he was bitten their sophomore year. Despite it being their senior year now, and they were both adults according to all legalities, Stiles hated the thought of leaving him alone. Luckily Melissa wasn’t working the night shift and had learned over the years how to care for her werewolf son.

 

“Well, don’t forget it’s still a school night,” John says, snapping Stiles back to reality.

 

“Got it, Dad,” Stiles says. He gets up to put his bowl in the sink. “I gotta go; see you tonight!”

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

School seemed to fly by, but Stiles could hardly concentrate on anything with how much he was thinking about the show that night. With the first exams of the year coming up, the friends all tried to study together in the library. It was a hopeless endeavor that consisted of Stiles shuffling restlessly in his chair and checking the time constantly.

 

“Stiles!” Lydia yelled, resting her hand over his where it had been tapping ceaselessly on his book. “Why are you so antsy? I thought you didn’t even know the bands playing tonight.”

 

“I don’t,” Stiles shrugged, “but I always get like this before concerts.”

 

He didn’t exactly know how to explain the various stages of excitement to anxiety to full-blown terror that Stiles experienced before every show that he went to.

 

Stiles went back to staring at his book without really reading any of the words, but making a conscious attempt not to fidget too much. On the other end of the table, Scott was also restless but Stiles knew it was just the approaching full moon.

 

As soon as five p.m. hit, everyone started packing their bags to go home. Stiles was out of his seat in a shot and saying a rushed goodbye to his friends as he ran out of the library.

 

“Have fun!” Allison yelled after him as she left with Scott.

 

Stiles waved to them as he unlocked his car and with that, he was on his way to the best (and only) music venue in Beacon Hills.

 

The parking lot outside the venue was deserted when Stiles arrived. Doors didn’t even open for another hour but Stiles liked hanging out before shows. He knew almost everyone who worked there, from security to the people that worked concessions. He knew there would be someone who could entertain him for a little while.

 

“Stiles! Hey!”

 

Stiles turned in the direction of the familiar voice, but his sight was blocked by a head of blonde hair as he was captured in a hug.

 

“Hi Erica,” Stiles said, laughing as she continued to squeeze the breath out of him. “Dude, your freaky werewolf strength is gonna break my ribs.”

 

Erica released him, laughing and flashed her golden eyes at him. Stiles looked around quickly to see if anyone saw. He was always alarmed by how open Erica was with her wolf when he and Scott had fought tooth and nail (fang and claw?) for years just to keep from anyone finding out. Erica had been in his grade all through high school and was apparently a werewolf the whole time. Stiles had gone to her more than once when he didn’t know how to help Scott. She’d known right away what Scott had become.

 

Erica just laughed at Stiles more when she saw him looking around panicked at her showing her wolf. “It’s okay, Stiles! There’s no one else here.”

 

“Still,” Stiles said, his voice low, “you shouldn’t just do that.”

 

Erica shrugged off his worries. “Is Scott here?” she asked, peering over Stiles’s shoulder like he’d been hiding his best friend behind him the whole time.

 

“No, full moon tonight,” Stiles answered.

 

Erica frowned. “Wait, what? He’s been a wolf for like two years hasn’t he learned control?”

 

“Of course he has!” Stiles said indignantly. “I would trust him here in a heartbeat. He just... doesn’t trust himself.”

 

There wasn’t any pity in Erica’s eyes as she nodded in understanding. Stiles was grateful for that.

 

“I always know people he can talk to,” Erica said.

 

Stiles nodded. He knew that Erica was part of a pack that she adored and she’d been trying to get Scott to talk to for years. But Scott didn’t really trust other werewolves, not after the way he was bitten and left alone. He could’ve died and it was a miracle that he hadn’t hurt anyone else. Which was why Erica didn’t push the issue too much, she only occasionally reminded Scott or Stiles on bad days that there was a pack that could help him.

 

Erica seems to change the subject quickly. “Oh, I forgot to mention that Boyd’s playing tonight.”

 

“That’s really cool! Tell him I say hi.” Erica hums and smiles. Stiles smirks. Nothing _ever_ shuts Erica up.

 

“Have you closed the deal on that or no?”

 

Erica smacks him across the arm, her cheeks are flushed red. Unfortunately, with werewolf strength, it actually stings like a motherfucker.

 

“Ouch, holy shit. That didn’t even answer my question!”

 

Erica glares at him. “It’s none of your business, Stiles.” She seems to glance around for a moment before she says, “But we have gone on a few dates.”

“Hell yeah!” Stiles proclaims, giving her a high five (and shaking his hand afterward because again, werewolf strength).

 

“He’s really sweet.”

 

Stiles nodded, thinking back to the handsome guy he used to be in school with. He was very much a strong and silent type. The kind of guy who would hold doors open and shit. “Don’t I know it. It’s a tragedy he’s heterosexual.”

 

Erica rolls her eyes. “Lucky for me though.”

 

It’s Stiles’s turn to swat at her for that but she dodges it easily.

 

“I’m gonna go make sure nobody’s accidentally set fire to the stage,” Erica says before giving Stiles another too-tight hug. “See you later okay?”

 

“See ya,” Stiles said after her, holding his slightly sore ribs. Great, he was already in pain and the show hadn’t even started yet.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

As much fun as Stiles usually had at concerts, they also tended to be somewhat terrifying. Big crowds, in general, weren’t really Stiles’s game but he suffered through. Local punk shows where no one knew the music and most people were at least a little drunk tended to be rough. The first band had played slower music and no one had pushed each other into the ground. There was just a lot of awkward swaying but the band was really good. The next group upped the tempo of there music and had started some mosh pits and crowd surfers. Stiles hated both since he was terrified of being literally stomped to death or kicked in the head.

 

While the next band set up the stage for Stiles watched groups of young adults mill around the venue. Some drinking, a few going out onto the patio to smoke, there was a buzz of energy still going around the place. Stiles walked to the patio for some fresh air. As he breathed in the cool night air, Stiles couldn’t help but look up at the bright full moon. He hoped Scott was doing okay. Maybe he should text Melissa? But then again-

 

“So how was the beginning of the show?”

 

A voice broke through Stiles’s thoughts and he startled, looking around to see that Erica had snuck up on him.

 

“Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Stiles says, clutching his chest over his pounding heart for emphasis.

 

Erica’s head tilts slightly and she shrugs. “Sounds fine to me.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes. Erica pokes him sharply in the ribs. “Hey!”

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” she whines.

 

“It was good,” Stiles says. “I really liked the first opener but the second one’s sound was totally unbalanced.”

 

“Oh don’t I know it,” Erica sighs. “Danny’s pissed but the band insisted during sound check that they wanted to sound like that.” She shrugged. “What can you do?”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Typical pop punk dudes.”

 

Erica nods knowingly. Stiles eyes her with a bit of curiosity. She looks completely calm under the light of the full moon. Stiles sees that she’s slightly more restless than usual but nothing about her isn’t...human.

 

A notification sounds from Erica’s phone, snapping both of them out of their haze.

 

“Five minute call to next set,” she says. “You should go see this band. They’re amazing.”

 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Could it possibly be Boyd’s band?”

 

“As a matter of fact, it is, and they’re really good. Not even being biased.”

 

“I’m sure,” Stiles teases. “Anyway, get back in there before Danny has to run the show himself.”

 

Erica laughs and waves to Stiles as she walks back towards the venue.

 

Stiles waves back and watches her weave through the crowd to get back inside. He decides to send a quick text to Melissa just to check on Scott before he makes his own way into the venue.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Stiles is milling around with the groups of people waiting for the next band to start when Melissa texts him back.

 

 **Mother of Another Brother** sent: **_he’s fine Stiles, just watching TV.  now stop worrying! I thought I was supposed to be his mom_ **

 

Stiles rolls his eyes and slides his phone back into his pocket just as a cheer goes up from the crowd. The band was taking the stage. They’re a group of three people, mostly in black and ripped clothing. Stiles recognizes Boyd as their bassist, he’s just as handsome as he was when Stiles last saw him. The drummer is a girl who looks around the same age as Stiles, maybe younger, and she has a wicked gleam in her eye as if daring the world. Daring them to do what exactly, Stiles couldn’t tell. Finally, the guitarist/singer is taking the stage. She looks older than Stiles and actually looked a lot like the drummer.

 

All the musicians took their respective places on the stage to a silent crowd. The singer seemed to survey the crowd in a way that reminded Stiles a lioness on the hunt. Her look resembles the gleam in the eyes of the band’s drummer. That gleam has the same energy but hers feels more calculated. Less wild. From the back of the stage, the drummer counted off a quick beat and they launched into an intense song.

 

The music ripped through the venue and the crowd went wild. Stiles was legitimately concerned for his safety. The pushing started almost immediately as well. Somehow Stiles managed to survive the first song. He guessed that people at this show knew this band much more than Stiles did.

 

“Hey everyone, we’re Lupo Notte! I’m Laura, that’s Boyd, and on the drums, we have my baby sister Cara. Thanks for coming out!” She pushed her long hair out of her way as she continued. “I’m glad all of you are having so much fun but just a reminder to keep each other safe.”

 

One random guy in the crowd booed.

 

Laura pointed in the direction of the boo-er. “Just steer clear of that guy and we’ll all have fun.”

 

Stiles laughed and Lupo Notte charged into their next song with just as much ferocity as the first. It seemed some people around Stiles had taken offense to Laura’s declaration of safety because the pushing was even worse than before. And, unfortunately, much closer to Stiles. Everything got very scary, very fast.

 

The guy standing in front of Stiles got shoved back and Stiles struggled to stay upright. He started to turn around to apologize to whatever poor soul he’d just accidentally knocked into. Before he could get the chance, Stiles was pushed back again before he could regain his balance. Stiles was sure he was gonna end up on the floor. Fuck, he was gonna get trampled. In some wild attempt to keep from smashing his skull into the concrete, Stiles’s arms flailed wildly. In a heart-stopping moment, Stiles’s elbow connected with something very solid. From behind him, he heard a sharp crunch and a grunt of pain. But he wasn’t falling anymore. Instead, he was leaning awkwardly against the chest of the person behind him. Stiles straightened up and spun around to face whoever he'd just mangled. He was sure he could have died from embarrassment.

 

The guy standing behind him was tall, broad, dark-haired, and clutching his bleeding nose. Stiles was sure that had to be broken. And he was the one who broke it. Oh, fuck.

 

“Shit, man, I’m so fucking sorry!”

 

The dude kinda waves him off with the hand that wasn’t covered in blood. “It’s fine,” he says. “Trust me.”

 

Stiles proceeds to completely ignore him and drag the guy through the dense crowd of people towards the exit.

 

“I’ll drive you to the hospital. Don’t worry my friend’s mom works there and she’s super cool and she’s been giving me stitches and shit for like ten years without charging my dad.”

 

“You know, that’s really nice of you but-”

 

“Fine, no hospital, but at least let me give you a ride home? Please?”

 

And maybe Stiles looks just pathetic enough because the guy kinda smiles behind his hand and shrugs. “Sure, if you insist.”

 

“Oh, I’m very insistent,” Stiles says as he leads them through the parking lot to his Jeep. “My name is Stiles by the way.”

 

Stiles glances at the stranger and notices him looking up at the sky, probably trying to tilt his head up to stave off the bleeding. For a split second Stiles thinks he maybe saw his eyes were a different color but Stiles is sure that was just a trick of the light.

 

“I’m Derek.” And Derek even holds out his hand for Stiles to shake. Stiles might melt a little. Because through all the blood and the fact his voice sounded funny since he was holding his nose and the fact Stiles fucking broke his nose, Derek was hot.

 

Stiles shakes Derek’s blood-free hand and leads Derek to the Jeep.  “So, where to?” he asks as he starts up the car.

 

“It’s kinda out of town. Pretty close to the woods. You should take Highway 15.”

 

Derek seems like a cool guy but a voice in Stiles’s head that sounds suspiciously like his overprotective father is saying that a random hot guy trying to get him to drive into the woods was not someone he should be following. Even if he had wounded such guy.

 

Derek can apparently sense his unease because his eyes suddenly went wide and he started shaking his head quickly. “No, no I promise I’m not a creep! My family’s lived there like, forever. You can call my mom.”

 

Maybe it’s the fact that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious had just cited his own mom as a reference to his character but Stiles is pretty sure that Derek was actually going to be the death of him. Before he could stop himself, Stiles giggled. And then he did again. Derek was looking at Stiles like he’d grown another head but Stiles couldn’t stop.

 

“I’m really sorry, man, just- Oh my God,” Stiles actually thought he was going to cry. “I think it’s just the adrenaline and stuff, I’m sorry, man.”

 

Derek looks at him almost fondly as Stiles fights to control his breathing. “Why do have so much adrenaline?” Derek asks. “I’m the one with the broken nose here.”

 

But there’s a glint of humor in his eyes that shows he’s clearly not mad.

 

“I don’t know, man. But honestly, I’m surprised I’m not doing worse.”

 

Stiles looks around the Jeep for a moment before finding a small towel he keeps in the Jeep for when he inevitably spills something. “Here, use this for the blood.”

 

Derek takes the towel and holds it up to his nose before thanking Stiles. Shrugging off the thanks, Stiles puts the Jeep in drive and pulls out of the parking lot and starts towards the highway.

 

“So, um, which was your favorite band?” Stiles asks and immediately cringes. Was he really talking about the show they both had to leave early due to injury?

 

Luckily Derek doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he laughs. “I’m pretty biased towards Lupo Notte as two of my sisters are in it.”

 

“Really? That’s awesome! Do you ever feel left out of the family gig?”

 

Derek shakes his head. “No, I used to actually play bass but I couldn’t perform with the band when I started college. It’s not a big deal though; Boyd is way better than me.”

 

Stiles tries not to be too distracted by the thought of Derek playing bass. Luckily, he’s saved by remembering his emergency first aid kit in the glove compartment.

 

“Hey, if you need anything like some alcohol wipes to clean up the blood or whatever, they’re a kit of stuff in the glove compartment.”

 

Derek says a quick ‘thank you’ before retrieving the wipes. He takes his hand away from his face and Stiles glances at him. The blood has mostly dried by now. Actually, there wasn’t really any swelling either. Scott had broken his nose once in PE and he didn’t look nearly that good 20 minutes after.

 

“Dude, the bleeding has stopped! Awesome!” Stiles says.

 

Strangely though, Derek looks nervous at the congratulations. “Um, yeah nobody in my family...bleeds much.”

 

Now maybe it was because Stiles was always with Scott or maybe he just spent too much time lying to his dad, but he felt like he knew a lie when he heard one. Not to mention Derek was just a shit liar. Stiles looked at the weirdly fast healing nose, the eyes changing color, the fact his old band’s name meant fucking Night Wolf, even the fact that he lived so close to the woods.

 

“Holy shit, you’re a werewolf.”

 

Derek’s eyes widen in panicked surprise but then he forces out some laughter. “That’s really funny, Stiles.”

 

His entire demeanor seems to be begging Stiles to just drop it.

 

“Dude, don’t even worry about it my friend Scott is a werewolf.”

 

And he really has no idea why he said that because either Derek is a werewolf and he just painted a target on his and Scott’s backs or Derek isn’t a werewolf and Stiles just looks insane to him now.

 

Luckily, Derek just looks even more surprised if it was possible. “Wait, Scott? As in Scott McCall?”

 

Now Stiles was suspicious. How did this random werewolf know about Scott? Derek seemed to pick up on Stiles’s mistrust.

 

“My mom has been trying to get him to join our pack for ages! I think you know Erica?”

 

Stiles nods in confirmation but Derek wasn’t done.

 

“Wait,” Derek's eyes widen in realization, “wait, you’re Stiles? Erica has told us about you! Not much, just that you’re basically Scott’s emissary.”

 

“I’m sorry, Scott’s what now?”

 

Derek slows down. “Oh sorry, I forgot that you don’t really know pack dynamics. An emissary is basically a human or other non-werewolf that is like an ambassador for their pack.”

 

When he thought about it, that actually seemed like a decent description of Stiles.

 

“So your pack is the one that’s been trying to recruit Scott? Why?”

 

“The biggest part of it is that a wolf without a pack is dangerous, unstable. We’ve been keeping tabs on Scott since he was bitten and the control that he has is amazing.”

 

In spite of himself, Stiles scoffs. “Try telling him that. He doesn’t trust himself.”

 

Derek nods slowly. “That’s probably smart. It might be hard to hear but it’s better for him to be safe than accidentally hurt someone or himself.” Derek looked away from Stiles suddenly and out the window. “Now I probably shouldn’t tell you this, my mom always wanted Scott to be the first one to know directly once he was in the pack and stable, but another reason my mom tries to recruit him is that she feels guilty.”

 

Stiles looks away from the road; Derek avoids eye contact. “Explain. Now.”

 

Sighing heavily, Derek continues. “A few years ago, my family was attacked by hunters. They tried to kill the whole family in a fire. Through sheer dumb luck, our emissary was able to help us and no one died. A few people in my family were hurt though, including my uncle. He was burned in the fire, in a weird coma-state for months but even after he recovered something in him just...snapped. He wasn’t the same. He left the pack and we all thought that he just needed time.” Derek stares down at his hands, folded in his lap. “What we didn’t know was that his wolf had gone rogue. He attacked three people, bit all of them. Two of them died but one…”

 

“Scott,” Stiles finishes.

 

Derek nods.

 

“Where is he now?”

 

“In my family’s backyard," Derek says casually. "Buried. My mom likes to say he makes great fertilizer for the hydrangeas.”

 

“Damn,” Stiles says.

 

Derek shrugs, finally looking back up at Stiles. “He wasn’t himself anymore. My mom tried to contain him but he broke free and was going to attack more people. It was honestly like his wolf was taking him over completely. Like all he could think about was his own survival and creating more wolves for his pack.”

 

The next few minutes were spent in tense silence, only broken by Derek giving Stiles directions.

 

When they arrive at Derek’s house, a large farmhouse literally in the middle of nowhere, Stiles parks his car and they sit in silence. Inside, Stiles can see Derek’s family moving around, the lights from their house a lone beacon in the darkness of the surrounding woods. The whole thing exudes comfort and warmth. It felt like something that Scott would be lucky to be a part of.

 

"Thanks for the ride," Derek says, unbuckling his seatbelt and preparing to leave.

 

“No problem," Stiles replies. "Um, take care of yourself, and sorry about the nose.”

 

Stiles is treated to another small smile from Derek before he turns and starts opening the Jeep door. “Also um,” Stiles says after him, Derek turning back around, “I’ll, um, I’ll talk to Scott.”

 

Derek’s smile grows even more. “Thank you. A pack will be good for him, I promise.”

 

Stiles nods. He believes him.

 

“When you think about it, there are so many ways our paths could’ve crossed over the years and we finally meet because I broke your nose in a fucking mosh pit.”

 

That gets Derek to laugh and he looks at Stiles with a soft expression. Stiles thinks he might die. “It was really good to meet you, Stiles,” he says gently. “Thanks again for the ride.”

 

“You're welcome,” Stiles says, his voice probably an octave higher than usual out of sheer gay nervousness.

 

The Jeep door is shut behind Derek and Stiles waits until he makes it to the front door before putting the car in reverse. Derek waves to him from the porch and Stiles think about it the whole ride home.

 

“I’m so fucked,” he says out loud.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

 The next few days weren't Stiles's finest moments, he'll admit. He spent most of the time moping and thinking about Derek. In school, Lydia commented on his lack of nervous energy and his father had asked if he needed to be concerned. Stiles didn’t quite know how to explain to them that he just had a big, sad gay crush on a hot werewolf that was about three miles out of his league.

 

One upside to the whole situation was that the conversation with Scott about joining the Hale pack went better than expected. At first, Scott was suspicious and didn’t promise to do anything more than call Derek’s mom. She’d given Scott her phone number when she first approached him years earlier and the fact that Scott had kept it around probably said he was more interested in the pack than he’d let on.

 

It was a week after the concert when there was a knock on Stiles’s door and he opened it to find Derek Hale standing on his porch, holding the towel that he’d borrowed (and washed, thankfully) and looking incredibly out of place with his perfectly styled hair and leather jacket. Like Derek's mere perfection wasn't compatible with the mediocre weirdness of Stiles's life.

 

“Derek! Wow, you’re- I mean what are you- Huh?”

 

Not his most eloquent moment. His only savior was that Derek seemed just as lost.

 

“I’m just here to, um,” he started before thrusting the towel towards Stiles, “This is yours. I mean thanks for letting me use it but, um, yeah that belongs to you.”

 

Stiles looks down at the bundled up towel in his hands and a thought occurred to him.

 

“Dude did you-” Stiles lowers his voice, “Did you follow my scent here??”

 

Derek went wide-eyed and immediately began shaking his head. “What? No! Scott had a meeting with the pack yesterday and I may have asked him for your address?”

 

The statement ended with a questioning inflection as if Derek realized that maybe what he’d done was a little strange. He was just lucky that Stiles didn’t care since Stiles was more intrigued by the blush working its way into Derek’s cheeks.

 

“Oh! That’s nice.”

 

And Stiles really meant it. Derek looked relieved that Stiles wasn't completely weirded out. They stood awkwardly for a moment before trying to speak at the same time.

 

“So how-”

 

“Would you-”

 

“Oh, you go first,” Derek says.

 

“I was just going to ask how the meeting went.”

 

“It was great, yeah. Scott really got along with everyone.”

 

As happy as Stiles was for his best friend, he wished this conversation wasn't so damn boring. There was another uncomfortable pause before Stiles broke the silence.

 

“What were you going to say?”

 

Derek looks startled as if he’d thought Stiles had forgotten. “I was just going to ask if you, I mean it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, if you want to go out sometime?”

 

Stiles was pretty sure that his brain just short-circuited. Because there was no way cool, hot, nice, college student, werewolf Derek Hale was asking him out.

 

“Um, yeah! I mean yes please, no wait that’s weird…”

 

Derek laughed at Stiles’s nervous stumblings but not in a mean way. “Here’s my number,” he says, handing Stiles a small piece of paper he’d just produced from his pocket, “Call me and we’ll figure something out.”

 

“Ok!” Stiles squeaked.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Derek says, walking down Stiles’s driveway.

 

Stiles was only able to wave silently, clutching the paper like a lifeline.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

Over the next few days, Stiles and Derek texted non-stop. It got Stiles in trouble in Harris’s class at one point but he couldn’t care less. Scott was somehow under the impression that they were texting about pack business and on the off chance the whole date went south, Stiles was willing to let his best friend think that.

 

There was one person that he did have to tell about his upcoming plans though: his dad. The Sheriff wasn’t exactly a gross wait-at-the-door-with-a-shotgun dad but Stiles knew how overprotective he could be. Stiles didn’t put it above his father for a second not to run a background check on Derek.

 

It was at dinnfast two days before the date that he decided to bring up the subject to his dad.

 

The Sheriff was eating pancakes for dinner and reading the morning paper when Stiles started carefully.

 

“So Dad-”

 

“Not another concert Stiles,” John says, monotone.

 

Stiles knew his dad was just teasing though. Maybe he should just lie and say he was going to a concert? No, he shouldn’t lie to his dad. He decides to just get it over with.

 

“IhaveadateonFriday,” Stiles says in one breath.

 

John looks up at Stiles over the paper. “You want to try that again, son?”

 

Stiles takes a deep breath. “I’m going on a date on Friday with Derek Hale. I don’t think you know him.”

 

“Talia’s kid, right? That’s a good family.”

 

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. He knew his dad would be cool about everything but he still felt better now.

 

“Uh, yeah, I think she’s his mom. I met him at the concert last week. We’re going out for a movie on Friday.” The old movie theater was doing a special showing of the 80’s movie Teen Wolf and Stiles couldn’t resist the irony.

 

“Well, have fun. Call me if he starts being weird and I’ll bring the full power of the law down on him.”

 

Stiles nods and tucks back into his pancakes. It was nice to know that everything was normal, his dad was still overprotective as hell.

 

“He’s not like Scott is he?

 

Stiles frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks before taking a big bite of pancake.

 

“You know, a werewolf?” John asks casually, not looking up from the newspaper.

 

Stiles nearly chokes on his food and he’s frozen in shock for a moment. “Wait, what the fuck? You know about that?”

 

John huffed and rolled his eyes in what he was sure was an excellent impression of his son. “Language, son.”

 

Stiles drops his fork, splattering syrup on the table. “Well, I’m sorry for saying a cuss when I just found out my own father secretly knows about my best friend being a freaking wolf!”

 

“Stiles, Melissa told me two weeks after she found out. Did you really think she was going to let you two teenage boys try to take care of this all on your own?”

 

That day was just full of surprises as it turned out.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

Precisely at five o’clock on Friday, a black Camaro pulls up in front of Stiles’s house. Derek had hardly pressed the doorbell when the door swings open and Stiles appears, dressed in his nicest flannel and black skinny jeans. The younger boy tries really hard not to stare at how good Derek looks in his dark green shirt and leather jacket.

 

They stand awkwardly for a moment before the Sheriff approaches. Derek stands at attention like he was a kid in trouble at school. Stiles braces himself for his dad to completely embarrass him, but the Sheriff smiles politely at Derek.

 

“Hey there, you must be Derek,” John says, holding out a hand.

 

Derek thankfully shakes John’s hand and doesn’t look too terrified. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Stilinski.”

 

“Please, call me John,” the Sheriff glances at his son who stills looks unsure of what to do. John sighs. “Well, you two have fun now.”

 

“Thanks, Dad, see you later,” Stiles says, dragging Derek outside. “That went better than I thought.”

 

Derek’s car is a jet black Camaro and looks cool as hell. The inside smells faintly like weed and generic brand lavender air freshener. There’s what looks like a broken guitar string on the floor that Stiles spots as he slides into the passenger seat.

 

Before Stiles can even say hello properly, Derek blurts out, “Sorry about the smell. This is my sister’s car and she-” He makes some vague hand gestures. “You know. I don’t know how she can stand the smell.”

 

“It’s fine with me Derek,” Stiles says reassuringly. “It doesn’t really smell to me but for you…”

 

Stiles trailed off. As much as he talked about Scott’s wolf with his best friend but he wasn’t sure if that was okay with Derek.

 

Derek smiles. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. My mom always calls me her ‘Worry Wolf’.” He pauses and starts up the car. “It was kinda cute until my sisters picked up on it.”

 

Stiles laughs. “My mom used to call me ‘misiu’ before-”

 

He stops himself but the word hangs in the air like a heavy fog. “She died but that’s a real downer. Sorry.”

 

Derek reaches over and sets a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles looks over at him, taking in his beautifully pity-free face, eyes set steady on the road.

 

“Misiu means teddy bear in Polish,” Stiles says. “It also sounds a tiny bit like my first name.”

 

Derek turns toward him. “Wait, what’s your-”

 

Stiles shakes his head, laughing. “That’s a question for the second date.”

 

Derek smiles.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

That night they go to the old theater that Stiles and his dad used to go to for months after his mom’s funerals when the house felt too small. He used to get his own bucket of popcorn and would fall asleep in it halfway through the movie. A lot of the movies they went to were old reruns and they tended to just go to anything the theater happened to be showing at the time. Stiles was nine the first time he saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show but his dad had covered his eyes for a lot of it. The uncomfortable situation had been the first thing the two had laughed at in weeks.

 

Walking back into the theater and taking in the familiar red walls and scent of popcorn and cinnamon and sugar, memories flow back into Stiles’s mind. The two purchase their tickets and a shared popcorn before heading into the theater.

 

The movie was cheesy as hell and Derek actually hid his face in embarrassment at how little the movie understood about werewolves.

 

“I can’t believe they had a scene of a werewolf playing basketball,” Derek grumbled as they walked back out to the Camaro.

 

“You should really write a letter and complain,” Stiles teases.

 

Derek laughs. “That would go great. ‘Hey, Michael J. Fox, remember that movie you made thirty years ago? Well, I’m an actual werewolf and I just feel like you really failed to accurately depict-”

 

Throwing his head back and curling his legs in slightly, Stiles laughs loudly. He knows it maybe wasn’t that funny but something about this night just felt good and he was having a great time with Derek.

 

When he finally stops laughing because he can’t really breathe, he looks over at Derek with slightly teary eyes and sees that Derek is looking at him fondly.

 

“What’re you looking at?”

 

Derek just shrugs and looks back at the road, but he’s still smiling. “You have a nice laugh.”

 

Part of Stiles wants to argue that he knows his face gets all scrunched up and he’s way too loud but another part of his brain told him to shut up and just take the compliment from the cute boy.

 

Derek signals his next turn and parks in front of an old looking diner. There’s warm light coming from inside and Stiles can see servers running around inside wearing khakis and aprons. As they watch inside, a bell rings over the door. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the flat screen TV in the corner above the breakfast bar, Stiles would’ve felt like he’d just gone back in time. They seat themselves at a booth covered in old but well intact vinyl and Stiles picks up one of the menus.

 

“Derek!” Stiles hears a voice call out and looks up to see a young, sandy-haired server quickly approaching the table. Derek grins at him.

 

“Hey, Jaden!” He turns back to a very confused Stiles. “This is my cousin, Jaden this is Stiles.”

 

Jaden’s bright smile is immediately turned towards Stiles and he waves a bit.

 

“Hey, I’m glad Derek brought you here! This is a really special place for our family.” He winks at Stiles when he says that.

 

From across the table, Derek groans. Stiles laughs. “I’m sure that you say that to all the boys he brings here.”

 

Jaden shrugs and takes their orders.

 

“So, is this entire area secretly inhabited by Hales or…”

 

Derek laughed. “Nearly, but not quite yet. There’s definitely a lot of us around though.”

 

“That’s really cool,” Stiles says, thinking about how all his singular aunt is on the other side of the country.

 

Derek replies with a shrug. “I’ve always thought it was pretty normal.”

 

“I guess. It isn’t for my family. It’s been just my dad and I for most of my life now.”

 

There is a nod and a look of understanding from Derek but no pity, which Stiles appreciates.

 

The silence that falls over the table is slightly uncomfortable and Stiles fidgets with his menu until Jaden comes back to take their orders.

 

As the evening goes on, the earlier awkwardness fades away. Derek steals Stiles’s fries and Stiles flicks whipped cream at Derek’s face and laughs until Derek licks it off because, huh? Interesting. They hog the jukebox and play the most annoying songs on it. Derek pretends to disapprove of his behavior but it doesn’t work. Later, when Stiles is dropped off at his front door and Stiles kisses Derek’s cheek in goodbye and thank you, Stiles walks into his house with a big to-go box of leftovers and a bubble of happiness in his chest that just won’t pop.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

Realistically, Stiles knew that Derek was just on winter break and would have to go back to school in a few weeks but he didn’t want to think about that. The only problem with not thinking about it was that Derek was going back the next day and Stiles didn’t feel ready to say goodbye.

 

They go back to that diner and eat sandwiches and milkshakes and Stiles tries not to think about how the Camaro was already packed with a few random things Derek would need the next day. Derek drives Stiles back to his house in silence but Stiles breaks it when they pull into his driveway.

 

“I know this might sound stupid,” Stiles starts before he loses his nerve, “But I really like you. Like a lot. And I know that college probably has way cooler people but like-”

 

He’s cut off when Derek rests a hand on the back of his neck and he turns towards the man next to him. “Stiles, please don’t be offended but you’re an idiot.”

 

Stiles laughs weakly, trying not to freak out.

 

Derek continues. “You’re so much cooler than anyone I’ve met at school. And I felt so stupid too because part of me thinks that I should just move back here so I can be with you all the time but that’s not smart. I don’t know what this is going to be, but I really, really want to find out.” Stiles nods dumbly. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

 

Stiles nods enthusiastically and kisses his boyfriend. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this, the scent of the natural pine cologne that Derek uses (“Other scents are too strong for me. What? Stiles stop laughing, lycanthropy is a curse!”), the soft leather of his jacket (“Laura tells me it makes me look like I’m trying too hard, but whatever”) and Stiles thinks this might be what love feels like.

 

They break apart slowly like neither of them really want to. “I’ll come visit all the time,” Stiles says. “I’ll miss you.”

 

They sit in the Camaro for too long, joking and laughing and teasing, and when the Sheriff turns on the porch light and gives them a pointed look through the window, they move onto the porch and linger there for another twenty minutes. Stiles falls asleep that night with a smile on his face.

 

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

It’s two months before he can see Derek again. They’d been Skyping constantly and Stiles had texted more than he ever had in his life but just the thought of seeing his boyfriend again in person had Stiles's heart racing. When he drove to the few hours to San Francisco, he felt like a string was pulling at his heart, drawing him closer. They spend the weekend together, Stiles meets Derek’s friends and explores the city. He drags Derek out dancing even though and has a better time than he thought he would.

 

Derek shows Stiles his records and, even more amazing, some songs he’d written.

 

“I kinda missed being in a band,” he shrugs. “I know they aren’t very good.”

 

Stiles assures him that they’re very good and shuts down his protests with a kiss.

 

“My mom used to play the guitar, she was a total badass,” Stiles says, leaning against Derek’s chest that night, “I still have her guitar somewhere. I always imagined I’d play on stage with it someday and dedicate some song to her. I know it’s kinda stupid.”

 

Stiles can feel Derek shake his head. “It’s not stupid at all.”

 

The lay in comfortable silence for a few moments. “We could play together if you want,” Derek says. “There’s a pretty cool music scene here and a bunch of places to play on campus.”

 

Stiles turns over to face his boyfriend. “That would be fucking sick!”

 

He kisses Derek, imagining how cool it would be to play music with his boyfriend.

 

Stiles laughs suddenly. “What?” Derek asks, looking a little offended that Stiles wasn’t kissing him.

 

“It’s just,” Stiles giggles, “People are gonna ask someday how we met and how our band got started. And I’m gonna have to say it’s cause I broke your nose.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and tugs his boyfriend back into a kiss.

**»»-------------¤-------------««**

 

As it turned out, Stiles’s hypothesis had been correct. Sex was a lot like concerts.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


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